


friendly fire

by killerqueenwrites



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Accidental friendly fire, BAMF James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Gen, He is trying his best, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, James Rhodes acting as Peter Parker's Uncle Figure, Misunderstandings, Protective Tony Stark, Sleepy Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Uncle Rhodey, Whump, and it so follows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27211234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerqueenwrites/pseuds/killerqueenwrites
Summary: “You want help or not?”“You’re gonna throw off our numbers, honeybear. We’re keeping a tally. Winner chooses what food we order after this.”“Who’s we?” Rhodey thinks he already knows.“FRIDAY, loop Karen in for me.”“Whoa, is that Colonel Rhodes? Awesome! Hi, Colonel Rhodes!”or, the aftermath of a fight goes wrong, and then somehow wronger, and Rhodey is trying his best.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 38
Kudos: 558





	friendly fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frostysunflowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostysunflowers/gifts).



> in which i ditch my usual favourite of early irondad for early uncle rhodey
> 
> happiest of birthdays to frostysunflowers. you are so so kind and an amazing writer. i hope you're having the best day!! 💕🥳
> 
> warnings: small mentions of blood and gunshot wounds, misunderstandings

_ “Uh-oh, incoming,” _ is the first thing Rhodey hears when his suit establishes a link with Tony’s.

“You want help or not?”

_ “You’re gonna throw off our numbers, honeybear. We’re keeping a tally. Winner chooses what food we order after this.” _

“Who’s we?” Rhodey thinks he already knows.

_ “FRIDAY, loop Karen in for me.” _

_ “Whoa, is that Colonel Rhodes? Awesome! Hi, Colonel Rhodes!” _

Of course it’s the kid. He seems to be becoming a permanent fixture in their lives. Not that Rhodey minds – quite the opposite. He thinks the kid’s good for Tony, keeps him on his toes, teaches him responsibility like a hamster would a nine-year-old. Or a puppy. It’s a fascinating new normal.

And they make a good team. Rhodey wouldn’t have flown up at all if the government hadn’t been on a recent kick about reducing property damage and red tape – while Tony and Peter will handle it between them, it’s road closures and superficial damage that affects property values and a whole other load of bureaucratic bullshit that Ross and his allies love getting riled up about.

“Hi, Spider-Man,” Rhodey says with a grin. “How’s it going?”

_ “Going good, going good – oof!” _

_ “Pay attention, kid!” _ Tony calls.

“Sit-rep, Tones. I’m about two minutes out.”

_ “Uh, we are fighting an army of drone-robot things. No idea where they’re from or what they want. FRIDAY’s working on pinning down a central power source or queen bee or whatever’s driving these things.” _

_ “Yeah, take that!” _ Peter yells.

_ “We’re handling it,” _ Tony says.

“I can hear that, yes.”

_ “But help’s always appreciated. Welcome to the party.” _

Rhodey banks around a building and throws his arms out in front to slow himself down, taking in the situation. And it’s a hell of a situation.

From this distance, the drone-bots look like insects, swarming so closely and densely they’re almost a cloud. As Rhodey looks harder, he can see two blurs of red in the centre of the storm, one set off with gold, the other with blue. 

He darts forward, already noting the flight patterns, watching how they swoop and duck and dive, always keeping Peter and Tony from going too far out of reach, keeping them trapped.

_ “We need to break the formation,” _ Tony says.  _ “They’re all bunched together. Too dense for us to break through.” _

“Handling it, huh?” Tony’s armour could definitely bust through the drone-bots if he wanted to, but Rhodey has a strong feeling that leaving the kid exposed isn’t an option in his mind.

_ “You helping or not?” _

Rhodey accelerates and blasts through the wall of drones, feeling them break and crumple against his suit. Almost instantly, a group of them peel away and follow him, but not without taking a few of themselves out. “Consider the formation broken.”

Peter swings off one of the drones and clambers up the side of a building, breathing hard, and quickly changes his web fluid cartridges.  _ “Thanks, man.” _

“You been swinging off the drones all that time?”

_ “Kinda didn’t have a choice.” _ And Peter dives back into battle, swinging low before darting upwards at the last minute, so sharply that the first of the drones behind him crash into the street, cracking the sidewalk and obliterating a parked car.

Rhodey can hear politicians sighing in the distance. “Good work, kid, keep it up.”

_ “Thirty-seven! Sorry about the car!” _

Tony swoops up and swerves around at the end of the block, turning suddenly and firing off shot after shot at the drones coming at him, counting under his breath. Peter hops up the side of a different building and slips between the legs of a water tower. The drones chasing him don’t have quite the same nimble agility.

One leg snaps on impact, and the others begin to buckle as they try to take the weight. It’s creaking, groaning, starting to fall–

_ “Shit!” _ Peter yelps, and circles back, throwing webs, straining to keep the tower upright. Rhodey rolls, loops around, braces himself against the bottom of the tower just as it begins to lean.

_ “Is the kid okay?” _ Tony yells, and it takes Rhodey’s panicked brain a moment to realise he’s opened a private channel. _ “Are you? Rhodey!” _

“We’re good! Focus on – shit! Focus on the robots.”

_ “Rhodey?” _ Peter’s darting around, trying his best to help, but the swarm of drones is still hot on his tail, a roiling cloud.

“Go, I got this,” Rhodey says, out of breath, short and choppy.

_ “But–“ _

_ “Do as he says!” _ Tony cuts in.

Peter lets go and darts away, webbing up another bot as he goes. He’s quiet: no quips, no comments, no whoops of exhilaration. It’s strange, almost unnerving, but Rhodey’s too busy trying to not die to worry overly about it.

He finally manages to tip the water tower back upright, wary of it rocking back the other way, and solders the broken leg. It’s a patchwork fix; another thing to add to the bill.

Ross is not gonna be happy.

_ “We need to put a lid on this,” _ Tony says, and he sounds out of breath too.  _ “Getting them one by one is taking too long.” _

Rhodey spirals into the air, gaining enough altitude to get them clear of any buildings, and opens fire: guns, repulsors, rockets. He barely makes a dent, and fires off another burst from his machine gun in sheer frustration.

Peter cries out in pain, muffled, as if he’s gritting his teeth. Rhodey hovers for a moment, watching as the drones swarm closer together again, circling.

_ “How we doing on that power source, Fri?” _ Tony asks.

_ “Each drone is self-contained.” _

_ “Signals coming in or out?” _

_ “None I can detect.” _

_ “Dammit,” _ Tony hisses.

Rhodey keeps watching, watching them roll, loop around, circle again and again. And in the middle of them all…

He activates his repulsors, flying straight down towards the dead centre of the swarm, arms outstretched, and hits his target. The drone-bot comes apart easily, its systems whirring to a stop, and the incessant humming that’s filled his ears since he got within a few blocks of the fight just – stops.

They drop.

Rhodey lands on the closest roof, and Tony follows, his face plate already folded back. He watches the drones fall in disbelief, watches them rain down with an utterly flabbergasted expression. He turns to Rhodey, mouth hanging open. “That still only counts as one.”

“But a big one.”

Peter lands a few yards in front of him, almost stumbling, a far cry from his usual grace.

“Kid, come here,” Tony says, a tightness in his voice that Rhodey recognises as  _ this close to freaking out. _

For some reason, Peter tenses.

“Spidey?” Tony says, taking a step towards the kid.

Peter stumbles back. “Sorry, I–“

“Kid, wait–“

Too late. Peter reaches up, shoots a web, and launches himself into the air.

“What…?” Tony stares after him. “What did I do?”

“Teenagers, man. You want me to…?”

Tony looks a little surprised, offended even, but nods. “Let me know as soon as you find him. He needs the Medbay.”

* * *

Peter is sitting on a rooftop, several feet away from the edge, arms crossed loosely over his front. He looks up, sees Rhodey, and tugs his mask off with a grimace, like he knows he’s about to be in trouble.

“You shouldn’t have run off,” Rhodey says gently, and dammit, that was nowhere near the reprimand he wanted it to be. Tony’s turned into a fucking teddy bear because of this kid, and everyone else seems right behind him. 

“Sorry,” Peter mutters. 

“Okay, I’ll tell Tony I found you–“

“Please don’t,” the kid says quickly. “He’ll just – make a fuss, and get mad, and I don’t want–“

“He’s not mad.”

“He’s not?”

“He’s worried, sure. You took a couple of heavy hits.”

“‘M fine,” Peter says, not at all convincingly.

“Uh-huh.”

“Really, I can just take myself home. I’m good.” 

“Not even a little bruised?” Rhodey says. “I’m sure Tony wouldn’t mind you having a quick check-up before you went home.”

“I’m really fine,” Peter insists, and holds out one arm gingerly, as if he’s about to shoot a web. The other stays clutching at his side. “I need to get home – my aunt–“

“Don’t make me pull rank,” Rhodey says. “I’m sure your aunt would prefer we took care of you after a fight like that.”

Peter’s shoulders sag, clearly accepting his oh-so-horrible fate of having to spend more time with them. He takes a step forward, whimpers, and collapses, so suddenly Rhodey barely manages to catch him before he hits the floor.

“Dammit,” he hisses, struggling to keep Peter upright. “Uh, private channel. Tony.”

_ “Rhodey, do you have him?” _

“Uh, yeah…” Peter’s forehead knocks against Rhodey’s armoured shoulder. “Shit.”

_ “Shit? What’s shit?” _

“He’s hurt–“

_ “How bad?” _

“Will you let me finish?” Rhodey finally manages to manoeuvre a frighteningly limp Peter into a more comfortable position. “Damn, I’m trying not to drop a lanky, floppy Spider-kid–“

_ “Floppy?” _

Then, only then, does Rhodey see the red, darker than the Spider-Man suit, spreading slowly but not stopping. How hadn’t he seen it earlier? “I’m taking him back to the Tower. Meet me there.”

_ “Fri, pull a full biometric readout from Karen.” _ Tony’s silent, clearly listening.  _ “Okay. Yeah, Rhodey, get him there. Quickly as possible.” _

“I got him, man,” Rhodey says, trying his best to sound soothing when he has the full weight of an unconscious teenager in his arms and a creeping inkling of what the hell might be wrong with him. “Be five minutes.”

* * *

He’s four minutes and nineteen seconds, in fact. He touches down on the landing pad of the Tower – is it still Stark Tower? Did they get far enough into the selling process to rename it? – and Tony’s already waiting, a medical team on standby behind him.

“Here’s your Spiderling,” Rhodey says, and places him on the gurney. They start jogging away. “You know what’s up?”

“No.” Tony sounds frustrated – he hates not having all the answers – but more than that, he sounds shaky. “Not why he collapsed, anyway. There’s definitely some bruising and scrapes, but…”

“He’s a tough kid,” Rhodey says. “He’ll be fine.”

“Why’d he run off?”

Rhodey shrugs, shakes his head.

“And what if you hadn’t found him? What if he’d tried to swing home and…?” Tony massages his forehead. “I’m going to develop ulcers, I swear. May says that’s all part of the fun. I am not having fun, Rhodey, I am having a conniption.”

Rhodey puts an arm around his shoulders – less comforting than it might otherwise be, given they’re both still in their suits – and lets him rant. 

“It’s enough worry without this – whatever just happened. I’m getting stress headaches, Rhodey. Pepper says I keep grinding my teeth. He’s going to give me an aneurysm.”

“But you wouldn’t change it.”

“God, no.”

Rhodey grins.

* * *

“So?” Tony’s there the instant the doctor steps out of Peter’s room. “What’s wrong with him?”

She shrugs. “Well, you could take your pick from pain, shock, exhaustion, adrenaline crash, low blood sugar, or all of the above. We got the bullet out, which was plugging the wound, so at least blood loss wasn’t a factor.”

“He was shot?” Rhodey whispers. The drones, as far as he could tell, weren’t equipped with guns and bullets.  _ Your fault your fault your fault. _

He was right, he realises as his stomach drops. It was him.

“Nothing vital got hit, no internal injuries. It could heal in a few hours if he sat down and rested. Of course, we both know how likely that is.”

“Yeah.”

“He’s lightly sedated now. You can go in, but keep him as calm and still as possible.”

“Thanks.” Tony waits until she leaves. “What if he doesn’t want to see me?”

Rhodey blinks. “Are you kidding? He worships the ground you walk on.”

“So what happened earlier?”

“I don’t know, but here’s a crazy idea: talk to him about it.”

“Might have to wait. His drugs are specifically synthesised for his metabolism. He won’t be making a lot of sense for a while.” Tony opens the door and Rhodey follows him in. “Hey, bud. How’s it going?”

Peter, lying propped up in bed, frowns. “Going?”

“I called your aunt,” Tony continues easily. “Happy’s gone to get her. You will have no memory of this conversation, probably.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, cool.”

Peter turns to Rhodey, eyes wide, and says in the most dramatic not-whisper, “I think Mr Stark’s mad at me.”

Rhodey stares at him, then Tony, then back at the kid. “Oh, really?”

The kid nods earnestly.

“Why’s that?”

“He did his shouty voice. Like with the…” Peter gestures vaguely. “Boat. Big boat.”

“Uh-huh.” Rhodey glances at Tony again, who looks like a rabbit trapped in headlights. “Can I tell you a secret, though?”

“Yeah!”

“That’s his worried voice.”

“Wild,” Peter says.

“That why you dipped? You thought he was mad?”

“Don’ like…” Peter sighs. “Dis’pointin’ him.”

“I don’t think that’s physically possible, kid.”

“Got hurt. ‘M dumb.”

“You’re not dumb, kid.”

“Cool.” Peter turns his head. “Oh, hey, Mr Stark.” Like the conversation never happened. 

“Hey, kid. How you feeling?”

“Floaty,” Peter decides.

“Probably a good thing.” Tony takes a seat by Peter’s bed. “Feel free to check out now, buddy, all right? May might have even burned through all her rage before you wake up again.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, cool.” Tony smiles, that gentle smile that Rhodey’s seen appear more in the last few months than all the time he’s known him. Marshmallow. Big fat teddy bear. Dad – that’s what he is. A doting father to an irresponsibly reckless teenage superhero.

Why didn’t he pay more attention to where Peter was? How could he let this happen? Rhodey shot Tony’s kid.

“‘D’I win?”

Tony pauses in brushing Peter’s hair off his forehead. “Win?”

“The competition. Who got more?”

“Honestly? I lost count. Tell you what, though. You can pick where we order from.”

“Pressure,” Peter whines.

“Well, then don’t pick.”

“I want Thai.”

“And there we go. Wasn’t that easy?”

Peter sticks his tongue out, and then gets distracted by something on the ceiling. Tony settles back in his chair, although Peter is still clutching one of his hands to his chest like a teddy.

“Tones,” Rhodey says, and stops, swallows. “The drones weren’t firing bullets.”

Tony frowns, most of his attention still on Peter.

“I was, though.”

Then Tony looks at him, eyebrows pulled together, and Rhodey braces for it. “I know.”

“You – know? When does the ass-beating happen?”

A sniff, that  _ really not in control of my emotions right now _ sniff. “There was a cat.”

“There was a cat.”

“Peter, contrary to what he demonstrates most of the time, is incredibly aware of his surroundings. He has Karen in the suit, he has whatever he’s calling his freaky sixth sense now – so he was fully aware of what was happening and what you were doing. But there was a cat. So he saved the cat. I knew he got hurt, just didn’t know how.”

Why is he so calm? “Tony, I shot him.”

“No, you missed a drone, and the great cat rescuer was otherwise occupied.”

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Rhodey says, and gestures to his friend. “This – you were just complaining about your early Peter-induced retirement. This is chilling. Look how calm you are.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m teetering right now,” Tony says, nodding towards Peter, still happily occupied with the ceiling, still hugging Tony’s hand. “But we’re keeping him calm, remember? Nice and relaxed. Keeping it together.”

“Very together.” Rhodey starts towards the door.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, where are you going?”

“You just – you got him, man. I’m gonna–“

“Wallow in guilt? You did learn from the best.” Tony points to another chair with his free hand. “What do you want from the Thai place? Their larb is amazing. The duck curry, too.”

“But–“

“No buts.”

“Am I going to be someone he wants to see when he wakes up?”

“Allow me to present some facts,” Tony says loftily. “Again, despite appearances, Webs here does have a genius-level IQ. He is probably fully cognisant of earlier events.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“And yet, his biggest concern was that I would be annoyed at him for getting hurt in the process of saving aforementioned cat.”

“There was a cat!” Peter says suddenly.

Tony, as ever, takes it in his stride. “Cat’s all good, Underoos.”

“Cool.”

“Everything’s cool. So, in conclusion, honeybear, I fail to understand your logic.”

“Why can you never talk like that in board meetings?”

“Because I don’t care about those.”

“I’m telling Pepper you said that.”

“Like she doesn’t already know.”

Rhodey grins, and takes the seat on the other side of Peter’s bed. “Duck curry sounds good.”

“Add a red duck curry and a coconut rice to the usual order, Fri,” Tony says. “Extra spring rolls and another sticky rice too, please.”

_ “You got it.” _

“Accidents happen,” Tony says. “Targets move. Cats get in the way.”

“I should’ve been more careful.”

“So should Itsy-Bitsy, but here we are.”

Rhodey hates to admit it, but Tony’s logic is working. “Yeah. Just give me a few more hours to beat myself up over it, and then by the time he’s awake and the takeout gets here, I’ll be fine.”

“Standard procedure for this family.”

“Uh-huh.” Rhodey waits for Tony to realise what he just said.

“And that includes Dumbass Junior here.”

“So you finally admit you’re a dumbass?”

“He’s shaving years off my life, and I’m shaving years off yours and Pepper’s. Paying it forward.”

“I think you may be confused about how philanthropy works.”

“Philanthropy is me buying dinner for an enhanced teenager with a high metabolism and therefore an insatiable appetite.”

“Not quite, but okay.”

“Mr Stark,” Peter says in a loud stage whisper again, “Colonel Rhodey is really cool.”

“I know he is.”

“I think he won.”

“He did. He chose Thai.”

“Cool!”

“Really cool.”

“How long’s he gonna be like this?”

“Couple hours, at least.”

“This is so entertaining.”

Tony laughs. “Isn’t it? Don’t get him started on  _ Star Wars _ –“

“Finn d’serves better.”

“Too late.”

Rhodey sits back, listens to Peter’s drunken but cheerful rambling, and grins at Tony’s fondly exasperated expression. He quite likes their new normal.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr at [akillerqueenwrites](https://akillerqueenwrites.tumblr.com), or my main blog [akillerqueenyouare](https://akillerqueenyouare.tumblr.com). come say hi, ask questions, leave prompts or just yell at me. i've also made a twitter, [@killerqueenao3](https://twitter.com/killerqueenao3) , if any of you want to talk to me there (it's mostly pictures of my dog). thank you for reading!


End file.
